


Unexpected

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 03:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "'Does this mean we have to spend the whole night inside this little cabin, until tomorrow morning somebody might wonder, why the lift isn’t working?!'"





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write a fanfic about this pairing, but it took a while until I had an idea how I could possibly write it. Then one evening this idea came across my mind and voilà there it is :D  
> As always please note that English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

 

”And what exactly do you want to show me?“ Lestrade asked the younger man, while the doors of the lift shifted close. He and Sherlock were on their way to the laboratory, as the consulting detective insisted on showing ”something of immense importance“ to Greg.

 

”A detail that is the missing evidence in your case,“ the brown-haired man said, turning his head into Lestrade’s direction. “Where would be the surprise if I told you before?“

”It has to be _the_ missing evidence, as otherwise it could have waited till tomorrow morning…“ the older man murmured, while rubbing his palm over his face. It was already 11.30 pm and he definitely wanted to get his well-earned sleep.

 

”For…“ Sherlock couldn’t finish what he’d wanted to say, as a crashing sound and the shaking of the lift cabin abruptly interrupted him. The neon lights were flickering for a few seconds, then everything remained motionless.

 

The older man swallowed. ”The lift isn’t moving anymore…“

”Well congratulations for that _genius_ deduction, Jeff,“ Sherlock sighed.

”It’s Greg for fuck’s sake. Not Jeff, Jim or George or whatever,“ Lestrade muttered, feeling slightly exasperated because of the fact that _Sherlock Holmes_ , a man who can deduce your relationship status just because of your clothes, can’t remember such an easy thing as his name.

 

A bit indecisive, Greg finally decided to try opening the doors to see whether they were stuck between two floors or if it could be possible to escape. But when the metal shifted open a few centimetres, Lestrade was presented with bare concrete.

 

Sighing he let the doors snap close again and instead moved his eyes up and down the keys for the different floors, until he found, what he was looking for. With slightly trembling fingers he pushed the emergency button.

 

For almost 30 seconds nothing happened. He pushed it down again, more nervous than before. Again nothing.

”Even in a building like this, this damn emergency button doesn’t work. I mean is it just decoration or why is this fucking button even there?“ the grey-haired man cursed.

 

Breathing deeply, he moved one hand into the pocket of his jacket. He fumbled around, looking slightly anxious. After a few seconds he pulled his hand out and instead felt through the fabric of the other pocket. He knitted his brow. ”I must have left my mobile on my office desk. Do you have yours with you?“

Sherlock instantly pulled out his smartphone, what made Lestrade sigh in relief.

 

Sherlock pushed the button on the side of his phone. ”Sorry, the battery’s empty. Maybe John was right when he said that I’m tweeting too much.“

”Are you serious? Does this mean we have to spend the whole night inside this little cabin until tomorrow morning somebody might wonder why the lift isn’t working?!“

 

”Obviously it looks like we have no other choice. But I am really sure that they will realise it at around 6:30 when the first employees arrive,“ the curly haired man said while sliding down the wall to get comfortable. As far as this was even possible.

 

The DI moved a hand through his short grey hair and leaned his back against the cold metallic surface of the lift. ”Great, that’s exactly how I intended to spent my night…“ Reluctantly he slid down the wall as well, trying not to think about when was the last time that somebody cleaned the floor.

 

He wasn’t really claustrophobic and as a Police Officer he definitely had to endure things that were worse than being trapped for one night in the lift of a public building. Shootings and murder were definitely worse than that.

 

The real problem was the presence of the brown-haired consulting detective. Lestrade didn’t want to admit it, not to anybody, not to _himself_ , but he was strangely fascinated by the younger man. By his sharp mind, his brilliancy. And of course, he couldn’t deny the fact that Sherlock’s outlook attracted him as well.

 

Greg sat on the opposite side of Sherlock in their small ”prison“ and let his gaze strive to the younger man. Sherlock’s eyes were closed. Surely he was in his mind palace. Lestrade sighed again, his eyes still lingering on the face of the consulting detective.

 

After a while, Greg slowly faded into some kind of fitful sleep, in which he was hunted by deep blue eyes and brown curls. When he woke up, he glanced on his watch. 3.45 am. He still wasn't completely used to the bright light, when he looked to the surprisingly also sleeping figure of the younger man.

 

Strands of Sherlock’s messy brown curls hung into his face that looked so soft and vulnerable now that he was asleep. Lestrade's gaze moved to the younger man’s rose lips and he started to wonder how they might feel. How he would brush his own over them… _Wait stop that!_ He inwardly cursed himself for letting his thoughts drift into that direction.

 

But he couldn't loosen his gaze off Sherlock and it still remained on the other man’s face, when Sherlock suddenly opened his eyes. Lestrade immediately turned his own eyes away and pretended to sleep. But of course it was foolish to think that he could trick somebody like Sherlock Holmes.

 

A knowing smile curled around the corners of the younger man’s mouth. As if by accident, he moved one leg to change his position and let it brush against the other’s thigh. Lestrade slightly shivered at the feeling of Sherlock’s warm body, even with the fabric of their trousers between them.

 

The younger Holmes just needed this reaction of the DI to proof that he was right with what he thought. Slowly he lifted himself a little bit and turned around to sit next to Lestrade. Sherlock felt the other man stiffen as he had shifted into his personal space. The detective’s eyes widened, his pupils dilated. He obviously felt unsteady what he should expect the younger man to plan.

 

Sherlock trailed his long pale fingers down Greg’s cloth covered leg, until he was dangerously close to the other man’s crotch. The older man inhaled sharply at the feeling of Sherlock’s hand so near to his already half-hard dick.

 

”You want me to touch you, don’t you? To feel my fingers tightening around your cock,“ Sherlock whispered seductively into Lestrade's ear. ”Your cock that is just hard by looking at me…“ The older man moaned at the thoughts that crossed his mind, produced by Sherlock’s words.

 

More than that willing moan wasn’t necessary for Sherlock. He brushed his fingers over Greg’s erection, which was pressed against the fabric of his trousers. But Lestrade wanted more. He wanted to feel Sherlock's soft hands touching the sensitive skin of his cock. ”Sherlock… please…“ the older man gasped and bucked his hips in desperate need.

 

Sherlock moved one finger under Lestrade's chin to turn his head around. He looked into the older man’s eyes that looked even darker than usual and were filled with undeniable lust. Roughly he pushed his mouth onto the grey-haired man's and let his tongue circle around his.

 

While they were kissing passionately, Sherlock increased the rubbing of his hand over the DI’s rock hard dick. He relentlessly stroked it through the cloth of Lestrade's trousers, until the older man’s breathing turned into ragged gasps.

 

The consulting detective opened up the older man’s trousers so that he could slide his hand inside them. When Greg finally could feel Sherlock’s bare fingers moving up and down his hard length, he clenched his fists and he came, moaning and gasping for air.

 

Sherlock pulled his hand out of Lestrade's trousers. His long pale fingers glistened with the other man’s cum. Deliciously slow the younger man let his tongue move out of his mouth and licked along his forefinger. His blue eyes locked with Greg’s dark and lusty ones. The older man sighed in agony at the arousing sight of Sherlock. He felt his cock twitch in his damp pants.

 

When the brown-haired man let his tongue circle around his middle finger, Lestrade couldn’t endure the sight any longer and threw himself onto the other man. Fuck it that they cuddled on the blank floor of the cabin. The DI demandingly pushed his lips onto the younger man’s and could taste the remaining flavour of his cum in the other’s mouth.

 

Their rough kissing made both men moan in pleasure. As they were so pressed together, Lestrade could feel the younger man’s arousal brushing over his leg. They separated their mouths for a few seconds, both breathing heavily. ”Sherlock…“ he whispered into the ear of the consulting detective. ”Fuck me. I want to… to feel you inside me…“ Greg muttered, almost unable to form a coherent sentence.

 

Sherlock grabbed Lestrade’s waist and turned them both around, so that the DI now laid underneath the younger man. Greg’s erection was pressed against Sherlock’s and Lestrade desperately bucked his hips to rub their hard cocks through the fabric of their trousers.

 

”On your knees,“ the consulting detective murmurs seductively and lifted himself off the other man to allow him to move. Lestrade obeyed willingly and placed himself on his knees and hands. Behind him Sherlock was presented with his cloth covered back.

 

The younger man slowly brushed his palms over Lestrade's arsecheeks. ”Far too much cloth here…“ he whispered, while sliding down the man’s trousers, until he could enjoy the sight of the other man’s bare arse in front of him. Deliciously soft he let his fingers trail over Greg’s pale skin, what elicited a quiet moan from the older man.

 

Sherlock let one finger sunk between the older man’s arsecheeks and let it trail around the man’s puckered entrance. Carefully he pushed the tip of his index finger inside the grey-haired man. The body of the DI convulsed at the intrusion and he took a sharp breath.

 

The younger man steadily moved his finger inside, until it was completely buried in the older man. When he added a second and a third one, he could hear Lestrade's ragged breathing. Sherlock completely slid out his fingers of Greg’s arse and the DI sighed as the uncomfortable feeling subsided. But Sherlock just thrust his fingers inside him again, preparing the man for his cock.

 

When he pushed against Lestrade's prostate, the older man moaned and moved his hips to meet Sherlock's movements, to increase the pleasure he experienced. After a few more strokes the younger man decided that Greg was ready now.

 

He placed himself on his knees and opened up the fly and button of his trousers. His own hard erection had already been pressed uncomfortably against the cloth of his pants. When he pulled down his trousers, his throbbing cock jumped out willingly, on the head a glistening drop of precum that slowly ran down his sensitive skin.

 

Sherlock placed his cock in front of Lestrade's entrance and had to force himself on not to relentlessly push into the other man. Instead he slowly let the tip of his length brush over the older man’s hole. ”Sherlock… just… fuck…“ Greg murmured incoherently, while squirming beneath the younger Holmes.

 

The consulting detective pushed the first few centimetres of his hard cock into the other man. Greg gasped for air and his fingernails scratched over the floor. But Sherlock relentlessly forced himself deeper into the other man, enjoying the tight feeling that surrounded his dick.

 

The pain that shot through his body like electricity overwhelmed Lestrade. He desperately tried to focus on something else. On Sherlock’s hands that grabbed his waist. On the sound of the other man’s heated breathing behind him and the fact that it was _he_ , who made the younger man breath like this. Slowly he adjusted to the unusual feeling and the pain faded away and was instead replaced by need and lust he could hardly ignore.

 

While Sherlock had at first remained motionless, he now pulled his length out of Lestrade's ass to push it with one hard thrust completely into him again. He shifted a little bit to change the angle of his cock moving in and out the other man, so that he hit the sweet spot inside him. Greg saw stars at the feeling and his limps slightly started to shake.

 

Sherlock’s breathing became more and more ragged, the faster he thrusted into Lestrade. The small cabin was filled by the sounds of their moans and their bodies hitting each other. Lestrade’s cock stood obscenely upright from his body, the tip of it was covered by leaking precum that dropped onto the floor with every rough thrust of Sherlock.

 

Greg couldn’t stroke his needing cock as his palms were still pressed onto the floor. But than he felt the hand of Sherlock reaching for his dick. The younger man roughly moved his fist up and down his erection.

The sound of the younger man’s moans, the feeling of Sherlock’s dick hitting Lestrade's prostate again and his hand pumping his cock, made the older man come with a suppressed groan. He shot his cum on his chest and on the floor in front of him. As soon as his body convulsed and his muscles contracted, Sherlock thrusted inside him for one last time, until he pumped his own semen deep inside the other man.

 

The younger Holmes leaned his head on Lestrade's back, trying to catch his breath. A few strands of his brown curls hung into his face that was covered by a thin layer of sweat. Carefully he pulled out his softening cock and grabbed the other man’s collar to pull him into a soft kiss.

 

After several minutes Lestrade loosened himself from the younger man and took a deep breath. ”When did you think somebody might find us…?“ the DI asked, looking at their current state. Sherlock’s curls even messier than usual, their still heated faces and not to forget the wet patch on Lestrade's trousers that would remind him of their previous actions, until he could throw said pants into the washing machine.

 

The younger man pulled out his smartphone and pushed the home button. The lock screen appeared and Sherlock typed in his password. Lestrade’s mouth opened a little bit, as he couldn't believe what he saw.

”Well, I think help should be here in at least 20 minutes, I just texted John where we are.”

 

”The battery wasn’t empty… You… You lied to me…“

The younger man’s mouth turned into a slightly nasty smile. ”I just wanted to see how things might turn out.”

Lestrade shook his head, but couldn't keep himself from smirking.


End file.
